


The Fine Art of Whining

by altilis



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Chastity Device, Community: kink_bingo, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-10
Updated: 2012-07-10
Packaged: 2017-11-09 14:39:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/456626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/altilis/pseuds/altilis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I don't think this is a good idea," Tony says, which is a challenge in itself now. "What if there's an—ah—emergency?"</p><p>[or: the one where Pepper ruins Tony's Saturday morning and Bruce doesn't help at all.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fine Art of Whining

"I don't think this is a good idea," Tony says, which is a challenge in itself now. "What if there's an—ah—emergency?"  
   
"Bruce has the key," Pepper reminds him as fiddles with the lock, getting the alignment right before she slips it through.  
   
"What if he's, you know, green?"  
   
"Thor has the other one."  
   
" _Thor_?" Tony gives Pepper a look, confusion and incredulity plastered over his face. "I'll have you know the very thought of that makes my testicles hurt."  
   
In return, Pepper smiles at him and clicks the lock shut. She tests the device pulling just hard enough to get a curse of surprise out of him. Snug hold or not, it's still his _dick_. He appreciates it unharmed. "He promised to stick around for the weekend, and he's almost a doctor now, thanks to you."  
   
"And this is how he repays me? Come on, Pepper." Tony sits up, ignores how Pepper's hand lingers right there on his inner thigh, and throws his best pleading look at her. "I got you that nice aquarium for your office, and that nice dress! You looked gorgeous last night..."  
   
"Nice try." She cups his jaw and kisses him before standing by the side of the bed, leaving Tony pouting in despair amongst wrinkled bed sheets. "Well, my flight leaves at noon. Don't do anything stupid—I'll be back Sunday evening." Her heels click on the wood floor as she walks towards the door.

Tony flops and stares up at the ceiling, wondering how he got into this, and then Pepper talks to someone in the hallway, but the door and the walls muffle their conversation.  
   
"I guess she really did it," Bruce says from the door. Tony looks over to see him peeking in, and then walking in, shutting the door behind him.  
   
"No thanks to you. I'll remember this the next time you want to go to CERN—you're flying economy." Tony says as Bruce approaches and sits right where Pepper was, peering curiously at the trap on Tony's cock, maybe leaning a little bit closer. He must be admiring the construction—the clear, thick plastic, the close fit, the 'cute' neat package it all made (as Pepper said)—but the technological awesome of the contraption isn't nearly as important as Tony's suffering, which no one seems to understand.  
   
"It's just plastic, Bruce. Nothing special...can you stop staring? You're making me self-conscious."  
   
"That'll be the day." Bruce looks up with a small, enigmatic smirk. "So it's supposed to—"  
   
"Let's not talk about it." Tony rolls onto his stomach (god, that feels weird). "Can my new celibate life start with a little peace and quiet? And maybe an omelette?"  
   
Bruce rests his hand on the small of Tony's back, and Tony feels the mattress shift as he moves closer. "Maybe this is a good thing," he muses aloud, his fingers drumming on Tony's skin. "You needed to do some work on the Mark VIII, right? Well, now you won't have any distractions." As he says this, Bruce slides his hand down to rest on Tony's ass. Tony groans into his pillow as he feels the plastic press against his stupidly interested dick. Bruce is one to talk; he's half the distraction. Pepper's the other half.  
   
"How is this not a distraction? I could slip and solder off my fingers because of this thing—not very good for safety protocols." This is the worst morning he's had since the day after Loki's Interdimensional Temper Tantrum, when he had been black and blue and sleeping in a hotel since his place had been kind of Hulk'd. And even then, he had fallen asleep next to Bruce and woken up with Pepper hovering over him (stern, but glad to see him alive, with that redness in her eyes again).  
   
"Get some pants on." Bruce pats his ass affectionately before getting off the bed. "It won't be that bad."  
   
"Fuck pants. That's too much restriction for one area."  
   
"Then I guess you want to show this to Natasha."  
   
"What?" Tony lifts his head.  
   
"I'm not bringing breakfast in here," Bruce says, opening the door. "I'm not cleaning that up again." He leaves and shuts the door behind him, leaving Tony alone to the quiet and the late morning sunlight.  
   
"JARVIS," he calls out, "Is Agent Romanov really in the kitchen now?" She's usually up before dawn and training before Tony has a chance to dream.  
   
"Along with Agent Barton and Thor, sir."  
   
Maybe pants would be the better choice, here.

**Author's Note:**

> Also at [Dreamwidth.](http://altilis.dreamwidth.org/36700.html)


End file.
